


A Proper Boy

by esperink



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Gay Michael Mell, Gen, Misgendering, Trans Michael Mell, Transphobia, his dad sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 09:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18518623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esperink/pseuds/esperink
Summary: Michael learned he was Michael when he was eleven years old.





	A Proper Boy

**Author's Note:**

> GUESS WHO FOUND THEIR FLASH DRIVE FINALLY

 “Ina? I don’t think I’m Maya.”

Analyn stopped her knitting and looked down at her child. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

Her child looked down momentarily, fidgeting, before looking back up at her. “Maybe I’m Michael,” he said quietly, eyes wide and vaguely worried.

Analyn hummed softly, noting his expression. “Okay, Michael,” she said softly, and she smiled when he smiled. Michael started chatting about his day, as he always did – mostly about school and what he and Jeremy did after school.

Michael told his father – Damien – the same way he had told his mother the next day. Only, instead of accepting it immediately like Analyn had, Damien vehemently disagreed. “You’re only going through a phase, Maya,” Damien had told the eleven-year-old. “It’s probably because you hang out with Jeremy a bit much, isn’t it?”

Michael frowned. “No,” he said softly.

“Sweetheart, you should spend less time hanging out with that boy and more time with other girls. You need more friends than Jeremy, anyway, don’t you think?” Damien hummed, clearly not paying that much attention to the topic at hand.

Michael bristled. “Sure,” he muttered, and he went back to his room to ignore his family until dinner time.

* * *

 

“Hey Maya,” Jeremy said, already heading over to the GameCube they constantly played on, taking the pac-man game out and replacing it with a Zelda game.

Michael hesitated for a moment, before deciding to be as straightforward as possible. “It’s Michael,” he informed him, and he held his breath.

“Oh.” There was a long pause as the game started up, and Michael fidgeted, taking a seat next to his best friend. “Hey Michael.”

Michael smiled in relief, and they started to play the game. He pretended like it didn’t mean the world to him when Jeremy laughed at something silly he did while they were playing a different game and said “Michael no!”

Despite his quick acceptance of Michael when he’d told him his name, Jeremy still slipped up occasionally, sometimes accidentally calling Michael ‘Maya’ or ‘she’. Michael tried not to mind too much – he was trying, and that was more than he could say for his own father.

* * *

 

Michael’s twelfth birthday was spoiled by the fact that his father refused to refer to him correctly. It mostly happened when Michael’s mother wasn’t in the room, and Michael definitely noticed that. When his Ina was around, Damien simply didn’t refer to him at all with names or pronouns, and Michael knew he was doing this on purpose.

His hands curled each time the name “Maya” came from his father’s mouth.

Jeremy was over for Michael’s birthday, and he, at least, kept referring to Michael correctly.

“Has Maya told you what she wants for her birthday?” Damien would ask.

Jeremy would reply, “Michael has told me what he wants for his birthday. Yeah, he wanted some puzzle stuff or patches. He likes patches.” He would nod.

And Damien would purse his lips, displeased with Jeremy’s refusal to call Michael something else. Michael was grateful for his best friend, though.

Damien slipped up near the end of the day. Jeremy and Michael were eating dinner with Michael’s parents, and Damien said something negative about Michael, using both “Maya” and “she”.

Analyn frowned at him. First, she shut down the negative comment, then she said, “His name is Michael.”

Damien sighed, evidently tired of all this business. “Her real name is Maya,” he replied. “Legally.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Analyn replied, her voice tense. “He wants to be called Michael, so his name is Michael.”

Jeremy and Michael glanced at each other anxiously.

Analyn sighed. “Michael, why don’t you and Jeremy go to your room?” she asked.

Michael and Jeremy put down their forks and stood, and Michael led Jeremy to his room. Michael’s room had had something of a makeover since he’d come out to his mother. It made him a lot more comfortable, not being constantly reminded of his assigned gender.

The two boys heard raised voices and Michael fidgeted uncomfortably, sitting on his bed. “This is the worst birthday ever,” he mumbled. Jeremy sat next to him and wrapped his arms around him, and Michael sighed, resting his head on Jeremy’s shoulder and closing his eyes.

Jeremy glanced around the room, like he was looking for something to do, or something to distract Michael with. “Let’s play Monopoly,” he piped up.

Michael opened his eyes. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, and he got out the board game and started setting it up.

* * *

 

“Boys don’t have long hair, Maya.”

The words rang in Michael’s ears as he stared at himself in the mirror, getting more frustrated by the minute. Finally he grabbed the scissors from the junk drawer in the kitchen. He’d show his dad!

He brought the scissors up to his long hair and hesitated. His hair was so soft. He really liked having soft hair. But having less hair wouldn’t negate that; he’d still have soft hair, just less. He started cutting away at the hair, watching as the long strands fell to the ground.

When he was done, he frowned. It looked messy. It looked bad. He groaned quietly to himself – what had he done?

He brought the scissors up to his hair again, trying to even it out the best he could. He froze when he heard the front door open. He’d almost forgotten his parents had gone shopping for food. He quickly shoved the scissors into the bathroom drawer and grabbed one of his hats from his room, quickly pulling it over his head.

“Michael, sweetie, can you come here and help put away the groceries?” his Ina called.

Michael slowly and worriedly made his way to the kitchen, where his parents were already putting some of the groceries on the table.

“Mi—” his Ina started when the couple saw him.

“What have you done to your hair?” Damien interrupted.

Michael glared defiantly at his father and didn’t answer him. Instead he went outside to the car to grab some groceries to put away. He ignored the glances from his parents. He focused on things like putting the milk in the fridge or putting the potatoes in the kitchen pantry. When he was done he started to walk to his room but his mother’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up at her.

“Michael, honey, how about we get that touched up?” she said softly.

Michael bit his lip but he nodded. So his Ina took him to the hairdresser. He stood quietly as his mother explained the situation to the hairdresser – “Hi, my son tried to give himself a haircut…” – and was secretly thrilled that she continued to refer to him as her son. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get over it. Was he always going to be happy when someone referred to him correctly?

He gleefully ran a hand through his hair when the hairdresser finished touching up his haircut. He thanked the hairdresser, and on the way home he thanked his mom.

“It’s no problem, sweetie, I just wish you would have waited and asked,” his Ina said, glancing at him from the rearview mirror. “What caused you to do it so suddenly?”

Michael mulled over his answer. “I thought it would make me feel better,” he replied, not wanting his mother to get in a fight with his father again. He leaned against the car window and looked out from it.

* * *

 

“They’re shouting again,” Michael whispered into the phone.

“Can you sneak out?” Jeremy asked, a little concerned.

“No, it’s okay,” Michael replied. “I – I just need someone to talk to.”

“Umm. Okay,” Jeremy said, and he started talking about this gaming convention he’d heard of and that he was interested in, and saying that he and Michael should check it out some time. Jeremy explained that it was an annual thing and it would be cool to have a thing to do each March.

Michael was silent, until he said suddenly, “It’s my fault, isn’t it?”

“What?” Jeremy replied, sounding confused by the sudden question.

“They’re fighting because of me…” Michael frowned at his shoes, still sitting on his bed. He sighed and rubbed his face. “I don’t want to be a girl,” he grumbled.

“You’re not a girl,” Jeremy reminded him, trying to validate him.

“But it would be easier, right?” Michael clutched the phone tightly, tone becoming upset. “They wouldn’t be arguing so much…”

“It wouldn’t be easier for you.”

Michael sighed. He heard the door slam in the living room and flinched slightly. “I could just try.”

“Michael,” Jeremy started, and Michael looked down even though Jeremy wasn’t there. “You’re my best friend and I don’t want you to have to deal with that.”

“Thanks…,” Michael said quietly. He listened closely to see if the fighting was done and absentmindedly wondered who left this time. It was probably his father again, he decided after a few moments. He was usually the one who left. Michael was often grateful for that because he’d rather not be left alone in the house with him, instead of his mother.

He kept the phone to his ear as he quietly slipped out of his room. He peeked into the living room. His mother was sitting on the couch, looking unhappy.

“I have to go,” Michael whispered into the phone, and said bye when Jeremy did as well. Michael walked towards his mother with a regretful expression, biting his lip. “I’m sorry, Ina,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie,” Analyn replied softly, sounding almost tired. “It’s nobody’s fault but his own that he can’t accept you as you are.”

Michael almost laughed, covering his mouth with a hand. “That’s what he says I should do,” he explained at Analyn’s inquisitive look. “Accept myself as I am.” He gestured to himself.

His Ina sighed and shook her head.

* * *

 

Michael almost felt bad when he learned that his parents were going to split and that it was most likely because of him. The family had been so happy before he’d come out as Michael and he wondered if he had never done that, would they all stay together?

His Ina assured him that it wasn’t his fault. There were other things, she’d said, that just happened to happen after he’d said he was Michael.

Damien got to have Michael every other weekend. Michael hated every moment of those weekends. These visits lessened after a few tries, though, when it was clear that Michael wasn’t going to really cooperate.

* * *

 

Michael hid behind his mother when she opened the door. His Ina had wanted to introduce someone she’d been seeing. “Mariah, this is Michael, my son,” she told the blonde woman who stood before them. Michael felt warm, still feeling happy whenever his Ina referred to him as her son even though he’d come out as Michael more than a year ago. “Michael? Do you want to meet Mariah?”

Michael peeked out from behind his Ina. The woman, Mariah, smiled and waved. “Hello Michael,” she said gently, and Michael felt he could trust her, so he waved back.

He edged out from behind his Ina and stood next to her. “Hi,” he finally said, disliking how squeaky his voice sounded. He covered his mouth.

His Ina let Mariah in, and she moved around the kitchen to finish getting dinner ready. The three of them had agreed on eating a dinner together – Michael could see if he felt this woman was good enough for his mother, and Mariah could meet Michael.

Michael sat in his seat quietly, watching Mariah with a critical eye.

She didn’t seem like a bad person, he’d decided by the end of the meal. He had been a bit standoffish at the beginning, but he ended up warming up to her.

He told his Ina this after Mariah left. His Ina told him that she was glad that he liked her.

“Are you guys gonna get married?” Michael asked after a lull in the conversation.

His Ina laughed. “I think it’s a bit too soon to be talking about that,” she said. “But we’ll see.” 

* * *

 

Michael was thirteen when he figured out he was probably gay. He’d told the people closest to him, of course, even though he was nervous. He had no reason to be nervous, he told himself, and he thought it was silly that he was worried. His Ina had a girlfriend and Jeremy had accepted when he came out as Michael.

Mariah, Jeremy, and his Ina accepted this.

He wasn’t sure why he’d bothered telling Damien. He wasn’t sure why he felt he should. But Damien was technically his father, and they still occasionally saw each other.

“Oh Maya,” Damien had said, holding Michael’s face in his hands. “You can’t even be a proper boy, can you? Liking boys? While pretending to be one?”

Damien’s words were like a blow to Michael’s stomach. His face felt hot and tears pricked the corner of his eyes.

“Don’t touch me,” Michael whispered harshly, pulling away from his father. He kept his gaze on the ground. Why had he agreed to come? Why had he decided to tell him? Had he actually hoped Damien had changed? “I want to go home.”

Damien sighed. “Very well.” He called Michael’s Ina, as Michael waited silently.

Michael refused to look at him or meet his eyes or speak to him. He crossed his arms and sat down, poking at the sand with his fingers. He stood when his Ina and her girlfriend showed up, still not looking at Damien.

“What did he do this time?” Ina asked softly, as she started to drive. Michael only shook his head, not speaking.

“I don’t want to see him again,” Michael mumbled, hardly audible, but his Ina only nodded.

They didn’t need to worry about that. Damien didn’t ask to see him again.

* * *

 

“Hi, I’m Michael Mell. Hi, I’m Michael. Hi, I’m—” Michael cleared his throat in irritation, attempting to make his voice sound different, deeper. He wouldn’t be starting T for bit but he was starting high school relatively sooner than that.

He frowned at himself in the mirror, rubbing his cheeks and running a hand through his messy hair. It was getting long again. He’d have to ask for another hair cut soon, but he knew his Ina wouldn’t mind.

“Hi, I’m Michael Mell.”

At least he had Jeremy.

* * *

 

Michael was actually looking forward to this new school year. He’d recently gotten a new haircut, new clothes, a new binder. He’d started T over the summer. He was excited. He felt like himself.

Junior year – what would he have to worry about?

**Author's Note:**

> "junior year - what would he have to worry about?"  
> you'vegotabigstormcoming.gif
> 
> come yell at me on tumblr: esperinkdraws


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